


Goodbye

by gleeblaineislife



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blaine Anderson Angst, Blangst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide, Suicide Notes, Unreliable Narrator, idk if i need anymore tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28884279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleeblaineislife/pseuds/gleeblaineislife
Summary: Blaine Anderson's suicide note set around season 3.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Kudos: 7





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: suicide, mentions of self-harm/ cutting  
> This is my first time writing so criticism is greatly appreciated :)) 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters

I’m living a lie. Well, I was living a lie by now. My life was not perfect by any means, even though I acted like it was. I am not the bubbly, dapper schoolboy called Blaine Warbler. I am Blaine Devon Anderson and he is much different. Blaine Devon Anderson is an actor and Blaine Warbler is his character. I don’t remember what it’s like to be pure, unfiltered Blaine Devon Anderson. I don’t even know who that is. But that’s okay, since people wouldn’t like him. If anything he’s just a fucked up mess that no one wants to deal with. I get it. I don’t even want to deal with him. But, everyone likes Blaine Warbler. Blaine Warbler is charismatic, selfless, kind, confident, and a leader. All the things Blaine Devon Anderson isn’t.

I was a mistake. My parents got drunk and went unprotected in July 1993. Nine months later, April 6th, 1994, I was born. My parents didn’t want to keep me, but Cooper (nine years old at the time) was ecstatic to be getting a sibling. And my parents would do anything for their perfect son. I didn’t have the best childhood. My parents worked a lot, so Cooper had to babysit me. Which means, some of my earliest memories are my brother telling me everything I was doing wrong. I was close to my lola, though. She lived in the Philippines, but when she was in America visiting my mama, I got her full attention. My lola taught me Filipino so I could speak to her better (Lola’s English was limited). Lola also made sure I took great pride in being half Pinoy. Then, my lola died when I was 7 years old. My mama and I went to the Philippines for her funeral. I remember Mama and I crying for hours together. Anyways, life went on. My bond with Mama was short-lived, which was an improvement from my non-existent one with my dad. Cooper moved out when he was eighteen and I was eight. My parents were disappointed when he went to L.A. to pursue acting. But, he was still their perfect son.

I have always known I like boys in _that_ way and not girls. I was twelve when I realized there was a name for that. Gay. And I knew that no one liked people that were gay. I was beyond upset that I was gay. I cried myself to sleep each night praying/begging for anyone to make me straight. Of course that never happened. It took 2 years and a series of cuts on my thighs to accept that I was gay. I came out to my parents. My dad yelled. Mama cried. It was one of the worst days ever. In high school, somehow people found out I was gay. That led to countless insults, being the root of everyone’s jokes, and being shoved daily. I had no friends. I had no family. I had nobody. I started cutting everywhere that wasn’t visible through clothes. I tried to stay positive. I told myself that they would get tired of torturing me. That my parents would accept me. I thought one of those was coming true when my father came to talk to me. He was working less and he said he wanted to do something with me. I was so happy. When he presented the old car he wanted us to repair, I told myself it wouldn’t be that bad. It was. I’ve never been interested in cars and fixing one was incredibly boring. I knew what his true intentions were once he started talking to me about girls. I told him I was still gay and he got mad. We continued fixing the car without him mentioning it again. Until we were finished and he brought up the topic of girls again. When I once again said I was still gay, he just walked away. Two weeks later him and all of his stuff was gone forever. It was just me and Mama.

At the end of my freshman year there was a Sadie Hawkins dance. I asked my only friend/the only other out kid to go with me. He said yes and we went together. As friends. It was a night full of dancing and flirting with each other in a friendly way. Afterwards, we were waiting for his father to pick us up from the dance and we were jumped. Some people on the football team were the attackers. I got a concussion, five broken ribs, a broken nose, a fractured ankle, and PTSD. I had it worse than my friend. Mama was so scared and refused to waste any more time ‘failing as a mother’ (her words, not mine). Mama and I both started going to therapy. They put me on SSRIs to help with my PTSD. Mama got some kind of anxiety medication. For the next school year I enrolled at Dalton Academy. Mama picked up more shifts at her job and used the money Lola gave to me to pay for the tuition.

Dalton was where I got to rebuild. Blaine Warbler was carefully crafted at Dalton Academy. I stopped doing therapy and went off of the SSRIs in November. I was so determined to be okay. Cutting was the only thing that kept me going. The doctors questioned the scars in the hospital but I was quick to assure them they were all accidents. I never brought it up in therapy either. I always made sure what we talked about was strictly related to my PTSD. Anyways, I joined the Warblers and became the lead singer. (I’d taken a few vocal lessons before the Sadie Hawkins incident). Since Mama usually worked on the weekends, I didn’t feel a need to go to my house. So I usually spent them learning the school’s piano and guitar and perfecting my vocals. Music was the only other thing that kept me sane. Music and cutting. The only times Blaine Devon Anderson was revealed. Then I met Kurt. And most of you guys probably know the external perspective of that. On the inside I was battling with depression, self-hatred (for manipulating Kurt and everyone else to believing I was normal + making my dad leave), and recurring PTSD (from hearing Kurt’s story and going back to a public school). I am the only one to blame for everything. That’s the story of my life. Now on to one last thing I have to say to everyone:

Mama, I love you and I’m sorry that I’ve been a burden making you work more and driving your soulmate away.

Dad, I hate it but I still do love you. I’m sorry for being gay. I’m sorry for not liking cars and being too short to play sports. I’m sorry that I’m too feminine for you to love.

Cooper, thank you for not caring that I’m gay. You are a truly great brother and I love you.

Warblers, thank you for accepting me as your leader and believing in me as much as I believe in all of you.

New directions, I get why you guys didn’t want me to be on your team. I know I’m an outsider. You don’t have to deal with me now.

Kurt, you were an amazing boyfriend and I love you. I’m so sorry that you don’t love me since I’m a coward and am so afraid that once you found out I wasn’t perfect you’d leave. I hope you find an amazing husband.

I tried to have a great last day in this world. I made and ate breakfast with Mama, called Cooper, tried to be happy at school, sang ‘Cough Syrup’ in glee club, went on a coffee date with Kurt, and now I am about to call Mama one last time. Then I’m going to take the pills while listening to my favorite songs in my favorite spot in my backyard. It’s the perfect way to end my anything but perfect life. I’ve been acting for too long. I can’t live like this any longer. I am a fraud. A fake. I’m about to see Lola. Goodbye everybody. I’ve been battling with depression for so long and now I’ve lost. I can’t even stand to live with myself so how would other people stand to live with me? I’m so sorry. Goodbye


End file.
